


Scott McCall's Field Guide to Felinology

by airgeer, ileliberte



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Animal Transformation, Best Friends, Fanart, Getting Together, Illustrated, M/M, Nogitsune Trauma, Romantic Comedy, post 3b
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-14 18:04:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1275850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airgeer/pseuds/airgeer, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ileliberte/pseuds/ileliberte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Usually a problem in Beacon Hills can be tracked back to werewolves at some point. Scott would like to categorically deny any responsibility for the latest mess, but the only person who understands the words coming out of his mouth is Stiles, and making a big speech isn't really worth it when it's all going to be lost in translation.</p><p>Still, though. Not their fault.</p><p>(aka the one where Scott get turned into a cat and it's not a big issue until it really, really is)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scott McCall's Field Guide to Felinology

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place after 3b, which obviously has not yet finished airing, so I've made some pretty critical and optimistic assumptions, which is to say that everyone still alive at 3x20 makes it through the end of the season :)
> 
> Also a note, this fic was written by airgeer (on tumblr at [airgeer.tumblr.com](http://airgeer.tumblr.com/)), and the art is entirely by ileliberte (also on tumblr at [ileliberte.tumblr.com](http://ileliberte.tumblr.com/)), who dragged said author by the ear into this fandom and then beta'd *and* illustrated this fic, isn't she the best?
> 
> We hope you enjoy it!
> 
> **[Fic post on tumblr](http://airgeer.tumblr.com/post/78787721055/teen-wolf-fic-scott-mccalls-field-guide-to-felinology) | [Art post on tumblr](http://ileliberte.tumblr.com/post/78788018155/scott-mccalls-field-guide-to-felinology-19k)**

 

 

** i. If you go into the woods today **

There were things he had done that he wished he’d thought better of before he’d done them because thinking better of them after he’d done them hadn’t really helped with anything. Things he’d done that-

“Do you ever wonder about the voice in your head?” Scott asked. “Mine keeps trying to be dramatic and falling flat.”

“Mine kept telling me to murder.” Stiles stepped up on a fallen tree, craning his neck up towards the faint light in the sky above them. “I mean, that wasn’t really the voice in my head so much as the horrible creature in my head, but I would’ve preferred yours anyway.”

“My voice in your head?” Scott waggled an eyebrow, and Stiles huffed at him indignantly, shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets.

“Are we close, or have you been narrating this trek through the woods instead of navigating?”

Scott breathed in deep, searching for the scent. “That way,” he said, gesturing towards where the feeling of fear wafted the strongest. “I’ll text Allison where we are just in case.”

 

 

** ii. you’re in for a surprise **

It was to the point where people disappearing from grocery store parking lots, from school, from work, from home (from anywhere, really) wasn’t something unusual in Beacon Hills. Well, sure, fine, it was something unusual in the sense that everything that preyed on fear and pain and suffering and ended up in town was slightly different in a new and horrible way, but after that last set of maiming and death and worse, Stiles figured they’d hit rock bottom.

"My internal monologue is way better than yours, dude, I was totally just dramatic," he said smugly, rushing to catch up to Scott.

“You’ve had more practice, it’s not a fair comparison,” Scott said absently, swiping at his phone screen. “Allison says that the search party is getting ready to head into the Preserve, they’ve found Lindie’s dad and she’s not at his place.”

“Great,” Stiles said, swinging his bat absently. “Has Derek texted back?”

“Not yet, I guess they’re still following their trail.”

“And we’re still not working off the theory that whatever this is split Lindie into pieces and that’s why there were so many scent trails?”

“Dude.” Scott looked at him, his mouth level in that familiar way that was simultaneously calming and shaming, and-

“Wait, come on, stop dad-facing me.” Scott kept looking at him, but his eyebrow quirked and Stiles knew that he was listening. “Seriously, there wasn’t enough time. She calls 911, we’re back at the school ten minutes after she’s disconnected, but the scent trail leads off in like four different directions. It doesn’t make sense.”

“I know. What else are we supposed to do, though? We can’t just leave her.”

“Uh, we could consider that this is probably a trap and retroactively not split up? Maybe?”

There was a quick, bright flash of light ahead of them, almost blocked by the trees and hills but unmistakeable. Scott froze, sniffing deeply. “She’s here, I’m sure she is.” He pulled his phone back out and frantically began to tap out a text.

“Give me your phone,” Stiles demanded, holding out his hand.

“Use yours,” Scott said, leaning away.

“My phone _bizarrely_ didn’t stand up to being smashed on the ground multiple times and the new one isn’t here yet. Come on, I need to call Lydia.” He needed reassurance, really, which he knew Scott knew and mercifully hadn’t said.

“Fine.” Scott sent his text and passed it over.

“Scott, Aiden says that he’s sure we’re getting close,” Lydia said as soon as she picked up. Scott tipped his head to one side in confusion, and Stiles could _feel_ his evening getting worse.

“Scott says the same thing about us, actually,” Stiles said. “We’ve got a mysterious light in the woods, what do you have?”

“Just the scent.”

“Just the scent? No feelings, no premonitions, no mysterious sounds?”

“No, Stiles.” Lydia’s tone abruptly shifted to something almost gentle, which was somehow both incredibly, uncomfortably awkward and exactly what he needed to hear. “I haven’t felt anything like that.”

“Okay, okay,” Stiles said hastily as Scott shifted from foot to foot, staring at the gap in the trees they’d seen the light through. “We’re going to check ours out. I’ll talk to you later.”

He hung up, offering Scott back his phone. “You hold onto it,” Scott said. “If there’s a fight I don’t want it to get broken.”

“Would’ve been awesome if that had been considered _before_ Isaac tried the old ‘tackling the bad guy always works’ strategy,” Stiles said, shoving the phone into his pocket. “I miss my phone.”

Scott wasn’t listening, which wasn’t much of a surprise considering that they were dealing with a kidnapping and a mystery, and just once it would be nice to have a non-mysterious kidnapping, or maybe a mystery that didn’t involve kidnapping, or maybe even a nice boring week where no one died or woke up screaming or anything.

“Do you hear that?” Scott asked.

“Obviously not, you’re the were-” Stiles was interrupted by a piercing yelp from the direction the light had come and Scott grabbing his arm. “Okay, yes, yes, that I did hear.”

“Wait here,” Scott growled, letting go of him and bounding off.

“No, no, nope, not doing that,” Stiles squeaked, snatching his bat up and running after him.

Running for his and other people’s lives on a regular basis had been great for his speed, but he wasn’t even close to a match for Scott, who jumped in and out of sight as the terrain rose and fell.

And then the world turned white and red and blue and purple in an explosion of colour, and he felt rather than saw it when the forest floor came up to meet him.

 

 

**iii. they really should’ve seen this coming**

Scott _ached_.

It was the first thing to come back to him. Sight would’ve been more useful, but general discomfort had somehow marched its way to the front of his mind’s priority list.

There was a stick underneath his belly, shifting and poking him with every exhale, and that more than anything prodded him back to awareness, because a stick meant the woods, and why was he sleeping in the woods when he had a room, unless something bad had happened and-

Oh, _oh_.

He’d been with Stiles, they’d been looking for that girl from school, a sophomore who’d called 911 screaming about cloaked figures before her phone had gone dead, and clearly they’d found something, except if he was down that meant Stiles was in trouble too, and he couldn’t even open his eyes, everything was so heavy.

“I’m really, really sorry. Like so sorry, you have no idea, oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to!” A girl’s voice penetrated the silence he’d been struggling against, and Scott really, really hoped that she was apologizing to him.

“Can you hear me, Alpha?” That was a calmer voice, an adult woman that he didn’t recognize. But she sounded almost friendly, and wasn’t making threats yet, which was a good sign. “Please stay calm.” She paused. “The weakness should pass in a moment, and you’re going to be fine.”

Scott relaxed, just a little, focusing on breathing in and out. His cheek brushed against the dirt, rustling his fur, and he-

Wait, fur. Fur?

He shouldn’t be furry, not if he’d been unconscious.

His eyes slid open, and he looked up, up, up, too far up. Lindie was crouched above him, her hands flexing and relaxing rapidly, and an older woman stood behind her, towering over him.

“So, please don’t freak out, because I just found out too and I know it’s terrifying,” Lindie said. “But magic is a thing.”

“He knows magic exists, Lindie,” the older woman said. “He’s an alpha werewolf.” Her lips quirked a little, breaking the calm line with a tiny smile. “More to the point, magic exists and when my granddaughter here panicked, her uncontrolled magic turned you into a housecat.”

Scott opened his mouth to speak, and wow, okay, his jaw hadn’t been hinged quite like that before and his tongue wasn’t cooperating.

He dragged his hand up into view, and when it turned out to be a tiny paw, slowly moved it back out of his line of sight.

Ignoring his minor breakdown, the older woman continued. “It’s risky to try to undo another mage’s work, or I would try to change you back. But, good news, it feels temporary. Expect to find yourself human again in a matter of days, a week at the most.”

Scott tried to look meaningfully at Lindie and probably failed, but the older woman continued anyway. “Lindie’s powers just manifested today, and she doesn’t have any control to speak of yet. It’s safer if she doesn’t do any magic at all. My coven was in a meeting when we felt her magic start to leak, and to protect your schoolmates we had to get her as far away as we could as fast as possible.”

“Sorry about the 911 call,” Lindie said sheepishly. “They were all wearing their cloaks; I thought they were going to murder me.”

“We spread out the magic that leaked at the school between the rest of the coven in order to prevent it from acting on any unlucky students. Each of us took off in a different direction, just to be sure we would diffuse it enough.”

That explained the multiple scent trails, each filled with Lindie’s essence. At least he could point out to Stiles that he’d been wrong to assume the worst for-

Stiles. If he was a cat, where was Stiles?

He tried to pull himself upright, tangling unfamiliar limbs and ending up only slightly less flat on the ground.

“I’ve sealed Lindie’s magic for now, I’ll bring her back to town so no one thinks she’s another tally in Beacon Hills’ impressive death rate,” the woman continued, completely oblivious to Scott’s rising panic. “Then we’ll have to leave, she needs to learn control and there are too many people here to risk staying.” She looked expectantly at him and then frowned. “I’d ask if you had any questions, but it seems a bit pointless. I just wanted to give you an explanation before we disappeared.”

“We have to take him back to town, Grandma,” Lindie said. “It’s not safe out here.”

No, Scott was not going back to town, because Stiles was somewhere out there. If he hadn’t shown up yet, that meant that the spell had to have affected him too, and Scott wasn’t about to leave him.

He growled when Lindie reached out for him, leaning away. There was a tiny jolt of guilt when she gasped and jerked her hand back, but it didn’t matter. Scott could understand and sympathize with the accidental usage of supernatural powers, he _really_ could, but he was going to draw his line in patience when it led to being taken away from a friend, _his_ friend that he’d gone through hell to get back and would again in a heartbeat, when he needed him.

“He doesn’t seem angry,” the older woman said slowly, rubbing a hand across her cheek. Then, “You’re not stupid enough to want to stay out here. There’s a reason you don’t want us to take you. Something out here.”

“Or some _one_ , Grandma,” Lindie realized. “What if he wasn’t alone? What if I really hurt someone?”

“I felt his transformation, Lindie. When you work magic on a werewolf, it ripples like a boulder landing in a still pond. If you’d affected another wolf, I would have known.”

Except Stiles wasn’t a werewolf, Stiles wasn’t anything but human anymore. Scott clumsily swept his hand-turned-paw towards Lindie and nodded slowly, levering himself up to stand on four feet.

“There is someone,” the old mage said flatly. Scott nodded again, the motion strange with his new muscle structure. “I see.”

 

 

 

** iv. Scott McCat, True Alpha **

The sensation of waking up cold and on the ground was something Stiles had tried to forget, along with the rest of his short tenure in Boy Scouts, but it was barely a surprise when a blast of cold wind woke him up.

He’d at least had a tent when he was seven. And a certain amount of premeditation to his outdoor naps.

“Stiles?”

Hey, Scott was there. Stiles opened an eye, just to check, and oh wow that was not Scott leaning over him, that was the missing girl and some old lady.

“Scott?” he called, wincing as a headache throbbed into life behind his eyes. “Scott, I think I found Lindie.”

“No, _I_ found Lindie,” Scott mumbled petulantly. He was closer than Stiles expected him to be, but sounded grumpier.

“Come on, buddy, I’ve got pine needles stuck in my face. Give me this one.”

The old lady’s face contorted into an expression that Stiles knew intimately, the one that adults tended to get before they suggested further tests would be necessary.

“Are you talking to me?” Scott asked, and seriously, Stiles had spent most of his life talking to Scott, it shouldn’t be novel to him anymore.

“I was trying to talk to you, Scott, yes, but, uh, where are you?” Stiles pushed himself up, rolling over to sit upright.

“He’s the cat,” the old lady said, pointing down.

Stiles looked down, and yes, that was a cat. That was a smallish, brownish cat that was staring at him in an unnerving fashion, and definitely not Scott, because Scott was not a cat, he was a werewolf, and werewolves didn’t turn into cats, they turned furry and their ears got pointy and they got pointy teeth, and okay, on second thought cats did have a lot in common with werewolves, but Scott was still not a cat so the cat was not Scott.

“Scott’s not a cat,” he said aloud.

“I’m totally a cat, dude,” the cat said, except the cat was meowing and it was turning into Scott’s voice, which was whole new brand of Not Okay, because it was like watching a badly dubbed movie where they hadn’t even tried to match the English track to the lip movements happen in real life.

The more he stared, the less deniable it became. “Oh god, you’re a cat.”

“Sorry again!” Lindie said. “It’s probably not permanent?”

“It’s _definitely_ not permanent,” the old lady said. “It was my granddaughter here who cast the spell, even if it was accidental. If it doesn’t wear off on its own, I will accept responsibility for it and do my utmost to fix it. But give it a week, and he should be back to normal.”

“At least you can understand me!” Scott added. “They can’t, I was getting worried.”

Stiles shuddered, breaking eye contact with Scott. “I’m sorry, but this is one of the most unsettling things I’ve seen recently.” He looked up at the old lady. She seemed to know what was going on. “So, Scott’s a cat, it’s not permanent, and you can’t understand what he’s saying.”

“I’m not a druid,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t speak cat.”

“I don’t speak cat either!” he yelled. “This is ridiculous!”

“Did you get hit by the magic?” Lindie asked. “Maybe it gave you the ability to speak cat.”

“Yes, but…” Stiles trailed off, meeting Scott’s yellow, slitted eyes. “Okay, fine, sure, I speak cat because of a magic spell. That makes as much sense as Scott being a cat, so sure.” Stiles rubbed his hair, grimacing as bits of forest floor shook out. “I assume that you’re not actually at risk of ritual sacrifice?”

“Nah, Stiles, she’s fine,” Scott said. “They’d better get back to town so the search party can be recalled, though. It’s getting dark and someone could hurt themselves looking for her.”

“Are you serious? You’re a _cat_ , Scott.”

“It’s going to be fine, Stiles. Tell them to go, and call Allison.” Scott punctuated his meowing by jumping onto Stiles’ leg, his claws digging through his jeans and into the first layer of skin.

“Charming. Fine, but get your claws out of me.” Scott detached his claws and immediately lost his balance, sliding down to straddle Stiles’ shin with an undignified sound. “What are you even doing?”

“The ground’s cold,” Scott complained.

“Oh my god, really? What a revelation.” Stiles slid a hand under Scott’s belly, scooping him up to his chest. “There. No claws required.” He looked up at the women. “Scott says you should go and stop the searchers. I’ll let the rest of our pack know that everything’s fine.”

“Are you going to be okay here alone?” Lindie asked.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve got Scott with me.” Scott stretched out along his arm and wrapped his legs around his bicep, turning his face into Stiles’ elbow. “No one would threaten this terrifying creature of the night.”

The old lady held out a hand for Lindie, using her other to trace symbols in the air. “If you need help, call me.”

“What, like, just say ‘hey, mage lady, I’m in trouble’ and you’ll come swooping in?”

“No, like, call me on my cell phone. Here’s my card.” She reached into her pocket and dragged out a slip of paper, tossing it towards Stiles. His arms were full of cat, so he let it fall to the ground before picking it up. “If you’re not back to normal in a week, we might have bigger problems. Let me know.”

She snapped her fingers, and the two of them were gone in a flash of light.

“Call Allison, they’re probably worried about us,” Scott instructed, lifting his nose out of Stiles’ elbow.

“What am I supposed to tell her? That you’re a cat? That’s going to be totally believable, Scott.” Stiles dug into his jeans pocket, pulling out Scott’s phone. “Aw, sorry, dude. I think I landed on the screen, it’s cracked.”

“Aw, no, no, no,” Scott said, spinning around on Stiles’ arm. “My mom’s gonna kill me!”

“You’re a cat, Scott, I think she’s going to have bigger issues than your phone.”

“Stop focusing on the cat thing! Being a cat isn’t going to cost anything, my phone was really expensive.”

Stiles had never had a cat, but he didn’t think they were supposed to be able to look pouty. “It’ll be fine, dude, she’s not even going to care.” The phone lit up with an incoming call. “And hey, look, it still works! Looks like it’s…uh, well it looks like an abstract painting is calling you, actually. Not sure who that’s supposed to be.” He flicked the icon to accept the call. “Scott’s phone.”

“Where are you two?” Kira asked. “Everyone’s freaking out, what’s going on?”

“Hey Kira!” Stiles said brightly. “In order of good to terrible, we found the missing girl, she’s fine, when Scott and I tried to rescue her we got zapped by magic, I feel like there’s a pine needle in my eye, my head hurts, I can talk to cats and it’s freaking me out, and also Scott’s a cat now.”

There was a long moment of silence, and then Derek said, “Stiles, put Scott on.”

“Cats don’t speak English, Derek, he’s not going to have much to say.”

“I have a lot to say, actually,” Scott said.

“Yeah, but it’ll all be in cat, Scott. You can talk to them later.”

“Stiles, are you feeling okay?” Derek sounded concerned, which was both sort of novel and sort of annoying, because Stiles was fine. _Scott_ was the problem.

“Yeah, fine, Scott just wanted the phone. Well, also I do have a headache, but landing face first on the ground and sliding tends to do that.”

“Stiles, Scott isn’t a cat.”

“That’s what I said! And then he started talking to me, only he was meowing, and now I’m pretty convinced.”

“Dude, you sound like you’re going to pass out. Take a breath.” Scott clambered onto Stile’s lap, front feet on his chest. “It’s going to be okay, but they’re not going to believe you until you calm down.”

“I can hear meowing,” Derek said. “Why do you have a cat?”

“The cat is Scott, Derek, oh my god, how many times do I have to say it?”

“Stiles, stop,” Scott said firmly. “You’re not helping, you need to calm down.”

“Where are you?” Derek demanded.

“Seriously, stop talking for a second,” Scott said. “It’s going to be fine. Tell Derek my phone’s broken so you can’t use the GPS to get out, and that I don’t know how to get out either anymore. Someone needs to come and get us, and we can deal with everything else after we’re out of the woods.”

“Scott-” and he hated how quickly his voice always betrayed him, but he hadn’t even thought about how they were going to get out, and it was January and getting colder, and he’d been lost and freezing for so long when-

“We’re fine, I promise. You’re awake, and I’m here, and you just need to tell Derek to track the last ping off my phone. Don’t worry.”

“Okay. Okay.”

“Stiles, where are you?” Derek repeated.

“Scott says,” his voice stuttered and failed, and he cleared his throat to try again. “Scott says to tell you that the screen of his phone is broken, so we can’t use GPS to get back to my Jeep. Also, he’s lost track of where we are, and I don’t even know which way we came in anymore. Can you come and get us? You can track Scott’s phone.”

“Isaac and Allison are already following your trail. If you’re still in the Preserve, they should be there soon.”

“Okay, good. Good.” _You’re fine, it’s fine, they’re coming_ , and how sad was it that even his internal voice sounded like Scott when it was being reasonable? Probably not as sad as the fact that it usually worked, so Stiles figured he probably needed to continue his policy of not examining his coping techniques too closely. Ever. _Probably it sounds like Scott because you’ve learned not to trust the sound of your own voice_ , his brain continued, and that was definitely not in conformance with internal policies, so he was going to tune it out again.

“I’m going to give the phone back to Kira now so I can let them know what’s happening. Don’t hang up.”

“He’s going to tell them that I’ve lost it and murdered you, isn’t he?” Stiles said, trying for a joke, but his voice felt flat and humourless.

Scott was willing to help, though. “No one thinks you could murder me, Stiles. I’m a werewolf, a True Alpha, and you fell up the stairs yesterday.”

“It’s a little freaky that you can still communicate the capitals in True Alpha even when you’re meowing,” Stiles observed.

“Well, this whole situation is a little freaky,” Scott admitted. “Cats are small, dude, and even you’re pretty big.”

“Stiles?” Kira said hesitantly.

“Sorry, I was talking to Scott. He says that he’s too awesome for someone like me to murder, which is actually not that great an assumption, with previous experiences taken into account.” Stiles paused and reconsidered. “And I absolutely sound like a murderer at this point, so I’m going to stop talking.”

“Yeah, Derek just started yelling at Isaac to hurry up,” Scott said. “Maybe you should say something that doesn’t sound like I’m dead?”

“Scott says that Derek’s yelling at Isaac to hurry. Could you maybe tell him to remember that I’m a delicate human and Isaac has a history of violent behaviour towards my person?”

“I think that still sounds like I’m dead and you’re talking for my corpse,” Scott analyzed thoughtfully.

“Oh my god, Scott, I used the present tense and everything, how else am I supposed to communicate that you’re alive?”

“Uh, how about you tell me what happened?” Kira said, her tone light in an obviously forced way. “Could you do that?”

“I wasn’t actually conscious for the cat thing,” Stiles said. “As far as I can tell, Lindie is a mage who had some sort of power incontinence and turned Scott into a cat but her grandma is dealing with it so we don’t have to worry, and Scott should be back to normal in a week at most.”

“That’s pretty much it,” Scott said. “I can explain it all when the pack’s all together.”

“Scott says that he’ll explain exactly what happened when we’re all together. I mean, he’s assuming that Isaac isn’t just going to rip my spine out for murdering Scott when he finds us, but hey, them’s the breaks.”

“Isaac isn’t going to rip out your spine.” Scott sat down, stretching down Stiles’ chest, a warm weight against his abdomen, and Stiles could feel the fluttering in his chest subsiding as he nuzzled in. “Are you cold?”

“I’m fine.” His fingers were cold, but it was nothing worth mentioning when his best friend was a cat and also laying on him.

“Cool. Ask Kira when Isaac and Allison are getting here.”

“She’s not going to know that, dude.”

“Not going to know what?” Kira asked.

“When Isaac and Allison are going to find us.”

“Oh, yeah, no. I have no idea.”

“Never mind,” Scott said. “I hear Isaac. Probably. I hear something, anyway.”

“We’re over here!” Stiles yelled, pulling the phone away from his mouth just in time to avoid shouting it right into Kira’s ear.

 Isaac was an intimidating figure when he was all wolfed out, particularly with Allison riding on his back, enormous bow in hand. It would probably be less intimidating and more funny if they weren’t both looking at him with wide, suspicious eyes, actually, but they definitely were.

“Stiles?” Kira said.

“Isaac and Allison are here, we’ll see you later,” Stiles said, pressing at where he hoped the end call button was.

“Stiles, where’s Scott?” Allison asked, passing her bow off to Isaac and spreading her hands, which was sort of a useless gesture, since it wasn’t like it made her any less able to take him down immediately.

Scott pushed off his chest, climbing off his lap and awkwardly waving a paw.

“Right there,” Stiles said. “Do you believe me now?”

 

 

** v. high point of cathood: no walking **

Allison was warm, and her hands absently carded through his fur as she walked. All in all, Scott figured he was having a better trip out of the woods than anyone else, what with the not having to walk and the getting to snuggle.

He felt bad about it for a second when Stiles stumbled over a tree root for the millionth time, but not bad enough to ask to be put down. He was the one who’d been turned into a cat, after all, so he figured he deserved a little break.

It was pretty…alarming, he was going to go with alarming, to be so small, so helpless, but at least it had happened when Beacon Hills was finally quiet. Nothing had happened for weeks now, like everything that was drawn by the Nemeton had taken the winter off, and they’d all needed the time to gather themselves and recover.

Of course, he’d thought that Lindie’s disappearance had put an end to all that. Even despite the cat thing, Scott couldn’t help but feel profoundly relieved that it had turned out the way it had, with her magic having nothing to do with them and nothing that they had to do to stop her or save her. It seemed like everything that had ever happened in Beacon Hills without a non-supernatural explanation stemmed from either him or someone he knew, and Lindie having magic all on her own was a nice change.

Being a cat wasn’t so bad either, he figured, as long as their luck held out. He’d just wait it out, and everything would be back to normal soon enough.

“So what’s the plan here?” Isaac asked, kicking a branch out in front of him.

“We tell everyone who asks that Scott has a nasty case of…uh…something, and then when he’s back to normal we pretend this never happened,” Stiles answered.

“You can pretend it never happened if you want,” Allison said, gently jogging Scott in her arms. “I think he’s adorable.”

“He was adorable before,” Isaac said loyally. “He’s cute like this, but I like him better when he’s bigger.”

“You guys know he can hear and understand you, right?” Stiles asked.

“Obviously.”

“Yeah.” Allison rubbed his head and stroked a gentle hand down his back.

Scott perked up a little, touching his nose to her jacket sleeve as Stiles narrowed his eyes at him. “Smug is not a good look on you, buddy,” he said.

“I don’t look smug, I’m a cat. You’re just jealous because you have to walk.”

“What did he say?” Allison asked.

“Something that I’m not going to dignify by repeating.”

Yeah, being a cat was pretty great.

 

 

** vi. low point of cathood: no talking **

Being a cat was pretty great, except for how it kind of blew.

Stiles had lost interest after half an hour of sitting through the rest of the pack arguing in circles when he’d finished translating for Scott, nodding off against the arm of the couch with his head pinning down half of Scott’s tail. Scott didn’t really mind, and was tempted to do the same, but he figured one of them needed to be responsible, and after the run into the woods, being blasted by a spell, and then Stiles not getting to be carried by Allison on the way out, Scott was willing to let it be him.

Of course, Stiles napping meant that Scott was completely unable to offer any sort of verbal proof that he wasn’t some imposter stalling them while the real Scott was spirited away by the mages that had already left town, so the whole cat thing was losing its shine fast.

“So basically we get to take the word of someone who can’t even sense when he’s being lied to that Scott’s a cat. That’s great.” Aiden threw his hands up.

“You can leave at any time,” Allison said. “I don’t mind.”

“I’m pretty sure it is Scott, actually,” Kira said. “He looks like him. Kind of.”

“No, it looks like a cat!”

“Stiles, Stiles, wake up,” Scott said, prodding his shoulder as an idea struck him. Stiles jerked out of his doze with a scowl, lifting his head and freeing Scott’s tail. “Give them the card, they can totally call Lindie’s Grandma and she’ll tell them.”

“Oh, good idea,” Stiles said sleepily. “While we’re doing that, I have another one. How about I take you home and explain this to your mom, because that has the added benefit of not being here anymore and it’s going to have to happen soon anyway?”

The room was quiet, and Scott looked to see everyone staring at them. “Yeah, give them the card and let’s go.” He wasn’t really looking forward to his mom’s inevitable freakout, but he wasn’t about to avoid it either.

“Okay, here’s the card the old lady gave me, you can call her,” Stiles said, flicking it at Derek. “I’m taking Scott home.”

“Maybe someone should go with you,” Lydia suggested. “Just to make sure you get back safe.”

“That’s fine, whatever,” Stiles said. “I hiked like a million miles today and was knocked out by the stupidest magic spell in the world midway through. I just want to leave.”

“Excellent,” she said. “Derek, you’ll take care of calling that woman, right? I’ll go with them.”

“Yeah, fine,” he said.

Scott stood up. “Pick me up,” he demanded.

Stiles sighed and slid a hand under his belly, tucking him over his shoulder. “I can’t tell if you’re doing that to freak me out, or if you’ve got some cat in your head right now too and are actually this lazy.”

“Probably the second one,” Scott admitted, arranging his paws comfortably and avoiding eye contact with anyone as Stiles carried him towards the door. “This is all super weird, man.”

“What’s he saying?” Lydia asked, sliding the loft door shut behind them.

“That he feels a little like a cat and it’s weird.”

“And the mage was sure that it’ll wear off?”

“She seemed pretty sure. Scott, how do you want to tell your mom?”

“I don’t know, dude, do you think she’ll be mad?”

“Nah, but it’s like you said before. You’re little like this. At least when you’re a werewolf you can take care of yourself. She’ll be worried.”

“Oh, right, speaking of,” Lydia said, “trade me. You need to call your dad.”

She held out her phone with one hand and slid the other under Scott’s belly, plucking him off Stiles’ shoulder. Scott did his best to keep his claws to himself as she adjusted him, curling up against her chest.

Being carried was sort of nice. Lydia didn’t pet him, not like Allison had, but she kept shifting her hands like she thought he was going to jump away from her and that was sort of like petting. He focused on balancing and not using his claws to catch himself when he was jiggled, missing most of Stiles’ conversation with his dad as they walked to the Jeep.

“My dad says I have to go home tonight, regardless of your current status as a cat,” Stiles announced. “Do you want to stay with me or at your house?”

It was an easy choice. “You’re the only one who understands what I’m saying. We’ll just have to convince my mom.”

Lydia carried him around to the passenger side, wrenching the door open. Scott saw the open passenger seat and jumped before he’d even considered it, pushing off her chest and landing lightly in the middle of the cushion, sitting down comfortably.

“Where do I sit, then, Scott?” Lydia said, pursing her lips.

Scott looked down at the seat and back up at her. This was his spot, she could get another one.

“Scott?” Stiles said. “What are you doing?”

His possessiveness disintegrated in an instant. “Sorry,” he said. “Sorry, I think that was a weird cat thing.”

Stiles picked him up so Lydia could sit down, and Scott fought the instinct turn into him and rub his mouth all over his face, because if stealing someone else’s seat counted as a weird cat thing, drooling all over his best friend’s face definitely went far, far beyond that.

Stiles deposited him on Lydia’s lap once her seat belt was on, the engine of the Jeep growling before finally starting. “Ready?”

Scott arranged himself on Lydia’s lap, hanging onto her arm as an anchor. He’d clawed Isaac pretty deeply when they’d gone over a bump leaving the Preserve, and Lydia wouldn’t heal as quickly if he scratched her. “Ready,” he said.

 

 

** vii. Melissa McCall is a gift **

“Well, at least you’re cute,” Mom said, ruffling the fur on his head.

“Mom, c’mon,” Scott complained, leaning away and smoothing his fur back down.

“We didn’t really think you’d take this so well,” Stiles said.

“Stiles, no one got hurt, you led with ‘he’ll be human again in a week, don’t worry!’, and there doesn’t really seem to be any immediate danger. Our lives are made up of this kind of thing now; this is minor compared to what I actually worry about.” Mom gave up trying to pet him and crossed her arms. “Unless you’re leaving something out?”

“Tell her about my phone,” Scott prompted. Stiles glared at him, but it was important. “C’mon, dude, tell her about my phone.”

“What’s he saying?” Mom asked.

“Uh, that there’s nothing else and he loves you?”

“ _Stiles_.”

“Stiles.”

“ _Fine_ , I broke his phone screen when I landed on it and it barely works anymore.”

Mom frowned, and Scott flinched, waiting for the lecture.

“ _Scott-_ ”

“Uh, I’m just going to go,” Lydia interrupted, pointing towards the door. “It’s a school day tomorrow and I’m pretty sure I hear Allison’s car, she said she’d pick me up, so I’ll see you at school, bye!”

She was gone in a flash of hair spinning out behind her and heels clicking, the door closing quietly behind her.

“Thanks, Lydia!” Stiles called after her, scowling, but when he turned back to Mom he’d pasted a big fake ‘hey I’m totally cool you should listen to me’ smile on his face. “Hey, what if I told you that I have an awesome plan that means you don’t have to replace Scott’s phone? Would you still be mad?”

“I’m not mad about the _phone_ , Stiles, it’s the fact that when you guys break your phones, you don’t have any way to call for help until you get a new one. What happens if you get into trouble?”

“I don’t know, but I bought like five used phones off eBay last week, and it’s only a matter of time before the first one gets here. See, planning ahead!”

“And between now and then, what’s your plan?” Mom asked skeptically.

“Stiles will borrow Isaac’s phone,” Scott decided.

“I’ll borrow Isaac’s phone!” Stiles repeated triumphantly. “Wait, no, Isaac isn’t going to give me his phone, dude.”

“And what’s Isaac going to do?” Melissa asked.

“He’s always with Allison, and she has a phone,” Scott said. “This is a great idea.”

“He says that he’s always with Allison so he can borrow hers if he needs to. Also that it’s a great idea.” Stiles didn’t sound too enthusiastic, but at least he wasn’t arguing.

“Alright, fine, fine,” Mom said. “Just take him home, Stiles. I’ll call the school in the morning and let them know he won’t be there.”

“You don’t want me to leave him here?” Stiles asked.

“You’re the only person who can talk to him,” Mom said. “Why would I want you to leave him here to get frustrated?”

“How is it that we never guess right which part you’re going to care about?” Stiles asked.

“You’re teenagers, and I’m an adult. Now go home, and be safe.” Mom scooped him without warning, hugging him gently and kissing the top of his head. “Keep in touch.”

Allison pulled up as Stiles was closing the front door. Scott waved his paw at her, and she waved back, giggling, as Isaac got out and Lydia got in.

“Why is she laughing at me?”

“Gee, I can’t imagine, buddy. Maybe because you look like a creepy novelty robot cat when you do human things, and you just waved at her?”

“Oh, right,” he said, sitting down on the porch as Isaac came up the walk.

“Everything good?” Isaac leaned around Stiles, trying to peer in the window.

“Oh yeah, she’s thrilled,” Stiles said. “It’s every parent’s dream to have their only child transformed into a cat.”

“So, not good?” Isaac stepped back, his face contorting in apprehension.

“No, it’s fine, I was just messing with you. Let’s go, Scott!” Stiles jumped off the porch, rushing for the Jeep like he thought Isaac was going to come after him.

“You know, after everything, I thought I’d be happy when he started being a dick again,” Isaac whispered, well below the level Stiles would be able to hear. Scott craned his neck up to meet his unimpressed stare. “Turns out, I didn’t really miss it at all.”

 

 

** viii. Scott could get a job as a hot water bottle  **

Dad wasn’t home when they pulled up and wouldn’t be home until late, what with the disappearing/reappearing/disappearing again issue that was Lindie. In Stiles’ opinion, that sort of defeated the purpose of demanding that Stiles go home, but he didn’t really have the heart to raise an argument against his dad trying to protect him anymore.

“I’m hungry, dude.” Scott meowed up at him from the front step.

“You’ve said that,” Stiles reminded him, fumbling with his house key. “You’ve said that more than once, actually.”

“I know, but it’s true.” Scott stepped out of the way as he pulled the door open, brushing past him into the house. “Do you have meat? I really want some meat.”

“I dunno, maybe?” Stiles locked the door behind him, a gesture that was completely useless against actual dangers that somehow seemed to make his dad feel better anyway.

Scott crouched once they were in the kitchen, his tail swishing out behind him as he leaped up onto the counter. “You should check,” he said quickly. “I actually can’t think straight, I just want food, dude I haven’t felt this way since growth spurts, is there meat?”

Stiles paused, his hand on the fridge handle. “Are you okay?” It was hard to gauge how Scott was feeling just from his face, and somehow reading a cat’s body language wasn’t something he’d ever learned in his completely pet-free childhood, go figure, but it seemed like there was a note of real panic behind the his frantic babbling.

“I feel like I’m going to explode with feelings about meat, and why I’m not eating it _now_ , I’m freaking out, it’s like…it’s like when I was first bitten.” His sides were heaving, and yeah, he was definitely freaking out.

Stiles reached over, stroking a hand firmly down to Scott’s shoulder, holding him steady as he leaned into it. His hand covered most of Scott’s side, which wasn’t right, but neither was the fur, so he was just going to deal with it. “Hey, hey, easy. It’s going to be okay. You can’t hurt anyone, so this is totally the opposite of when you got bit. This is a cat thing, just a cat thing, so I’ll get you something to eat, and then you’ll be fine again.”

Scott stared up at him, his tail still moving unhappily. Stiles took the hint, swinging open the fridge door.

“We have chicken,” he suggested. “Let’s try chicken, and please can you stop staring at me like that, because I feel like you’re going to try my face instead.”

He pulled up the plastic wrap covering the leftover bird, tearing a chunk of chicken off the bone.

“Yes, yes, I want that,” Scott said, perking up as Stiles pulled his hand back out of the fridge. “It smells so good, how does it smell so good?” His enthusiasm was well over the creepy line, but at least he’d fixated on the chicken instead of continuing to stare at Stiles.

Scott tugged the chicken out of his hand when he offered, biting hard and pulling down. Stiles went back to the bird, pulling meat off the bone until there was a small pile in front of Scott’s face that he figured would be enough.

“I get PBJ, because I’m not a cat,” he informed Scott, who was ignoring him. It made sense, he guessed. The cat’s instincts had come along with its body, and nothing was more important to an animal than food. If there was going to be a point where Scott was overwhelmed by the cat, it was going to be when he was hungry.

The chicken was gone before Stiles had even finished making his sandwich, Scott’s little pink tongue darting out to clean little bits of it off his face. “Are you back in control?” Stiles asked, because it didn’t matter how much theorizing he’d done, if Scott hadn’t come back after the cat had been fed, he was calling those mages and they were going to fix it now.

But Scott said, “Yeah, I’m good,” and jumped down from the counter. “That was something else, dude. It’d be really interesting if it wasn’t so weird.

“Welcome to our lives, buddy.”

He took his sandwich upstairs with him, because there really wasn’t a reason not to, eating with one hand and holding the other underneath in case the sandwich dripped. Scott followed along, hopping gamely up the stairs.

“Are you tired?” he asked as he jumped in front of Stiles’ feet, leading the way into his bedroom.

“I only slept for like two minutes earlier, so yeah, still pretty tired. Why? Are you planning on staying up?”

“No, I was just wondering if you were going to sleep. You still look like you’re not sleeping most nights.” And if Scott thought he was going to get away with worrying over Stiles just because he was a cat, he could think again.

“I’m totally sleeping,” Stiles said. “I haven’t been sleeping _much_ , that’s true, but it’s not like you do either. We’ve all got issues.”

“I sleep plenty,” Scott said, pulling himself up on Stiles’ bed and perching beside his pillow.

“Well, so do I, then,” Stiles insisted, because it _was_ getting better. He dropped the last third of his sandwich on the bedside table, pulling off his jacket and tossing it onto the desk chair. Scott politely looked away while he stripped and then redressed in pajamas, flopping into bed and wriggling under the covers.

One highlight of completely losing it: new, awesome mattress to replace the one he’d stabbed.

Scott lay down beside his head, curling into his neck and touching his cold nose to Stiles’ cheek. “You’re warm,” he murmured.

“Thanks for noticing,” Stiles whispered back. “Now stop talking.”

A little snort that didn’t need translation was all Scott replied with, but that was fine. Stiles wiggled down into his bed, Scott sliding down with him.

“If I have to stop talking, you have to stop moving,” Scott informed him, fur brushing against Stiles’ face and neck as he readjusted to his new position.

“This is not a tiny bed, you don’t have to lie on top of me,” Stiles mumbled back, refusing to open his eyes.

“I’m not lying on top of you.” Scott moved slightly, and then a warm, heavy weight dropped onto his face. “ _Now_ I’m lying on top of you.”

Stiles reached up blindly, trying a hook a hand underneath Scott. “You suck,” he said into a mouthful of fur.

Scott flopped off him to lie across his throat, which was really only a marginal improvement, but at least he could sort of breathe again.  “I thought you were going to sleep?” he said innocently, his eyes glinting in the light from the window. “I’m just trying to get comfortable, don’t let me bother you, dude. It’s just this whole cat thing is really getting to me, and I’m having trouble relaxing, but it’s cool, you can just go to sleep.”

“I know exactly what you’re doing, you huge faker, and you don’t need to lie on my face to get comfortable.” Stiles inched his hand underneath Scott, lifting up his middle so it wasn’t crushing his trachea.

“No, your face was a great mattress, I think it could’ve been really comfortable, but it’s wrecked now.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles said, flipping Scott off his neck and onto the mattress beside him. “I am not a mattress, use the actual mattress.”

Scott’s nose was abruptly in his face, cold and damp against his cheek. “You’re better than the mattress, come on, Stiles,” he whined. “I’m a cat; you have to feel sorry for me.”

“Okay, hold up,” Stiles said. “Do you actually have a problem with the bed, or are you just milking this for attention?”

“I’m milking it,” Scott said shamelessly. “Allison was petting me earlier and it was awesome, do you want to pet me? I bet my fur is really nice.”

“No, I don’t want to pet you,” Stiles said, but he tentatively ruffled Scott’s fur anyway.

“Yes, you do, I’m adorable,” Scott said, pushing up into Stiles’ hand. “Isaac and Allison can’t both be wrong.”

“What about last week, when you had to go let them out of the janitor’s closet? Because I’m pretty sure they were both wrong when they assumed the lock was broken.” Stiles stroked down Scott’s back, smoothing his sides down.

“Nobody’s perfect.” Scott laid his head out with a sigh, the reflection from his eyes disappearing as he closed them.

Stiles let his own eyes close, but he kept one hand on Scott, rubbing at his fur, which actually was pretty soft and soothing to pet. It was a bit of a surprise when Scott started to purr, but seeing as that was something cats were supposed to do when they were happy, Stiles let it go without comment.

Scott didn’t, though. “I’m purring!” he squawked, his purr abruptly cutting out.

“Not anymore,” Stiles said. “Good job though, it was very catlike while it lasted.”

Anything he would’ve said was cut off when Scott jumped back onto his face, flopping the not-really-considerable weight of his body onto Stiles’ nose.

“Are you trying to make me stop talking?” he asked, peeling Scott off and placing him on the pillow beside his head. “Because it’s not really very effective.”

“No, I meant it about your face being a good pillow,” Scott said, his tail lashing back and forth into Stiles’ hair. “Go to sleep.”

“I can’t now, I’m too worried you’re going to smother me.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Scott said earnestly. “You’re too important.”

“Aw, buddy, I knew-”

“Once I can get my own food though, all bets are off. Goodnight!” Scott snuggled back down into his original position against Stiles’ neck and shoulder, purring again.

“ _Scott-_ ”

“Close your eyes, buddy, you know I love you for more than chicken,” Scott said sleepily. “Get some rest, I’ll stay right here.”

Stiles ran through a dozen different replies, each one more awkward than the one before it. He finally settled on whispering, “Goodnight,” and if he turned his face a little so that it was closer to Scott, he knew that Scott wouldn’t say anything about it.

 

 

** ix. Stiles had a little cat **

“Last chance to change your mind, dude.”

“I can’t miss any more school. My grades are bad enough as it is.” Scott looked up at him from the passenger seat of the Jeep, too low for anyone to see unless they were trying.

“Fine.” Stiles pulled open his bag roughly, shuffling out papers until there was a cat sized space. “Try not to move around too much while you’re in there, okay? I don’t need anyone asking questions about why my bag is alive.”

“Just make sure you leave room for me to breathe,” Scott said.

Stiles sighed. “Look, seriously, are you going to learn anything at all today? You’ll have to stay in a bag, on the floor. You’ll barely be able to hear, and you won’t be able to see, and I’m going to get suspended for sneaking a cat into school.”

Scott was silent, his eyes baleful and yellow in the morning light. “You’re right,” he said eventually. “I’ll stay here. It’s not too cold today.” Scott sounded mournful and resigned, though, and that more than anything made Stiles look for another solution.

“How pathetic can you look?”

“What?”

“How sad, mournful, woe-is-me can your little cat face look, Scott? If I’m going to bluff your way into class, you’re going to need to play your part.”

“Oh, man, you’re the best!” Scott would be smiling if he wasn’t a cat, but that was okay because Stiles knew the exact smile that came out when he got a favour he wasn’t expecting. He could just imagine it.

“Just try to stay quiet, or else you’ll get kicked out for meowing.”

“Awesome!” he said brightly, sitting upright.

This was going to be a thing Stiles regretted. He shoved the papers back into his bag, zipping it up.

Scott was staring out the windshield when he looked back up, his eyes darting back and forth.

“Scott? Is this another weird cat thing?”

Scott stood, putting his paws on the dashboard and peering out the windshield. His tail swished back and forth as he leaned in. “No,” he said. “No, it’s not a weird cat thing. There’s something going on over by where they found Lindie’s phone.”

Stiles followed his stare over to a completely normal looking patch of ground. “I see…absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. What are you talking about?”

“There are lights, they’re flickering and dancing around. It looks just like the spell did, dude!”

A group of kids walked through the area on their way to the door, and Scott growled. “What? What are you seeing?”

“It’s weird, it just kind of opened up around them and then closed again. We need to call Lindie’s grandma, find out what that is.”

“Okay, great plan, except we don’t have a phone and we left her card with Derek last night.”

“This is why I wanted you to take Isaac’s phone,” Scott said, the fur on his back lifting. “This could be really bad, Stiles, it’s at the school!”

“Oh, hey, look, Ethan!” He and Danny were headed into the building already, and also Ethan sucked, but he would absolutely have a phone. He snagged Scott around the chest, tucking him under his arm as he slid out of the Jeep. “Ethan! Ethan! Wait up!”

Ethan stopped, and when he turned his face rocketed through a truly impressive range of expressions from irritation to a slightly different irritation and then back to irritation. “What do you want, Stilinski?”

“Uh, I need your phone.”

“Why do you have a cat?” Danny asked.

“Because I’m a cat person now, Danny. Give me your phone, Ethan, it’s important.”

Ethan’s eyes flickered down to Scott, who was staring at him. “Fine,” he said, pulling his phone out and unlocking it. “Try not to break this one.”

“Why are you giving him your phone?” Danny asked, but Stiles was already walking away which meant he could pretend he hadn’t heard.

“Why are you calling me?” Derek said sharply.

“Hey Derek, I’m not Ethan!” Stiles said. “I need the number of that lady, Scott says that there’s something happening at the school and it looks like Lindie’s magic.”

“I’ll text you the number, and I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Hey, hey-” Stiles started, but Derek had already hung up. The phone buzzed a second later with an incoming text, and Stiles clicked the number.

“Ethan’s staring at us,” Scott said as the phone rang.

“Duh, he heard all of that. Of course he’s staring, he’s worried he’s going to turn into a cat.”

“So’s Danny.”

“Yeah, I don’t actually want to know how absolutely bonkers he thinks I am, so keep that to yourself.”

“Hello?”

“Oh, yes, hi! This is, uh, this is Stiles, my best friend is a cat now, you’re sort of responsible, remember me?” Someday he would have a phone conversation where he didn’t sound like a total mess of a human being, but apparently that day was far in the future.

“It happened last night, of course I do. Is there something you need help with?”

“Uh, yeah, actually. So we’re at the school, obviously, it’s a school day, and Scott says he can see Lindie’s magic still hanging around? I can’t, but he totally can. Why? Is it bad?”

“It’s probably a side-effect of the change that he can see it, but it’s very concerning that it’s lingering at all.”

“Oh, good, very concerning,” he mouthed to Scott.

“It may just be taking slightly longer than disperse than we expected, but it could also be something else entirely. I suggest that you monitor it, and if it doesn’t fade throughout the day, call back and we’ll come and deal with it.”

“And why can’t you come and deal with it now, exactly?”

“It’s taking most of my coven’s power to hold Lindie in check, Stiles. If the magic at the school could be a slight danger, Lindie’s magic spiraling out of control could tear up an entire town if we’re distracted now. Keep an eye on it. Call me if it gets worse and we’ll figure something out.”

“Tell her thank you for the help,” Scott instructed.

“I know how to talk on the phone, Scott,” Stiles hissed.

“Are you still talking to me?” the lady said. “I have to get back if we’re done here.”

Scott dug his claws into his arm for emphasis, and Stiles sighed. “Thank you for the help,” he said dutifully.

“Not at all,” she said. “Good luck!”

The line went dead, and Stiles frowned. Or he did, but then a fun thought struck him. “Ethan,” he said, keeping his back turned. “Congrats, you get to fill Derek in when he gets here. I’m going to go find Lydia.” He turned and grinned at the deep scowl on Ethan’s face, adding an extra layer of casual to his saunter as he walked back to him, holding out the phone. “Thanks, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Ethan said, his lip curling up. “Always happy to help those less fortunate.”

“Stiles, stop it,” Scott ordered. “We have to go tell the others.”

“This is ridiculous,” Stiles said, because he was just about done taking orders from a cat, even if it was Scott, and oh, there was Danny forcing a fake smile on his face like Stiles was freaking him out, and that was his cue to leave. “I’m going, and Danny, I promise that there’s a reasonable explanation for the cat.”

“There isn’t a reasonable explanation for the cat,” Ethan said immediately. “I’m going to text someone to meet you at your locker so you don’t drag him all over school.”

There wasn’t much to say to that, so Stiles hiked Scott up a little higher and walked off.

 

 

** x. Derek (and his beard) just want to help **

“I don’t see anything,” Lydia admitted.

“The old lady mage said Scott could probably see it because he got hit so hard by that spell-”

“Her name is Ruth,” Derek interrupted.

“Yes, thank you for that extremely relevant information, Derek. So, that’s what Ruth thinks, but I think it might be the difference between cat eyes and human eyes. Either way, we’ve established that of werewolves, banshees, humans and cats, the cat is the only one that can see it. Has it changed at all?”

Scott studied the flickering light, but it was impossible to tell. Every time it dimmed in one place, another seemed to brighten. “I don’t think so,” he said. “But it’s really hard to tell.”

“We’re all going to be late for class in a minute, by the way,” Isaac said.

“You guys go, I’ll stay out here with Scott,” Derek said. “He can keep an eye on it, and I’ll make sure nothing happens to him.”

“How are you going to know if something happens, though?” Stiles asked. “Do _you_ speak cat?”

“No, but I imagine that if Scott starts freaking out and pointing at this general area, I’m going to get a pretty good idea of what he wants to say.” Derek held out his arms. “Come on, you need to go to school.”

“It’s fine, he’s right,” Scott says. “We can’t stay out here all day.”

Stiles sighed and passed him to Derek, who took him gingerly, letting his lower half sway uncomfortably before tucking him close, but not without a grimace that Scott totally saw. “You sure you’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, totally. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not going to eat him, Stiles,” Derek said, his voice echoed by a low rumble now that Scott was pressed against his chest. “Go to class.”

It turned out that there was room for Scott to perch on Derek’s dashboard, which was good because it placed him right over the windshield heating vent whenever Derek started the engine to unfog the windows.

However, stakeouts were just as boring as they’d ever been. Derek had pulled out a magazine and was only occasionally glancing up to check on Scott, leafing through the pages with a detachment that Scott figured he had to have practiced. The cover was tilted so Scott couldn’t see it, but Derek had started at the front of the magazine again twice over when Scott lost his patience, reaching out his paw and batting at the corner.

“What?” Derek said immediately. “Is there something?”

Scott shook his head, and Derek looked back down. Scott reached out again, but this time Derek moved the magazine out of his reach.

“Are you bored?”

Scott nodded.

“There’s not much I can do about that.”

Scott shrugged.

“Alright, fine. I’ll ask you some yes-or-no questions, and then you’ll go back to watching the possibly threatening magic, and I’ll go back to reading. Okay?”

Scott nodded.

“Have you tried shifting? Your eyes are yellow, and I haven’t even seen a hint of red.”

Scott had tried to shift at one point last night in between the cycles of slowly moving further onto Stiles’ face and being pushed off, uncurling from his neck and jumping down to the floor to try to will up the change. Absolutely nothing had happened. He nodded for Derek’s benefit.

“Did anything happen?”

He shook his head.

“It seems like your power’s been locked away. It’ll come back.”

Scott waited for him to say something else, but Derek just shrugged and picked his magazine back up. “I don’t actually have any other questions.”

Scott rolled away from him, flipping onto his side and stretching out so he could relax and watch the magic at the same time.

He realized that wasn’t his best plan when he woke up to Derek poking him softly. “Anything?” 

He focused bleary eyes on the magic, which seemed a little smaller, slower. Maybe. He shook his head.

“Go back to sleep, I’ll wake you up to check again in a while.” Scott shook his head again. He shouldn’t have fallen asleep in the first place, he _definitely_ wasn’t going back to sleep.

“This says that cats can sleep up to twenty hours a day,” Derek said, displaying the magazine, which as it turned out, was actually a thin, glossy book with the title _Your New Cat_. “You probably need it more than you think.”

Scott rolled back over, focusing on the whirl of the magic, and he was not falling back asleep, he was _focusing_ -

“It’s lunchtime,” Derek said, shaking him gently. “Stiles is coming out.”

“Come _on_ ,” Scott said, blinking his eyes open.

“Yeah, you fell asleep again. Any change to the magic field?”

“Hey,” Stiles said, knocking on the window. “Everything okay?”

“He’s frustrated because he keeps falling asleep,” Derek said, a traitorous half-smile on his face.

“Am not,” Scott said, maybe a little sullenly. “Everything’s the same. The magic’s still there. It might be a little fainter, but I’m not sure.”

“Aw, buddy, it’s okay if you’re tired. I’m pretty sure cats are supposed to sleep a lot.”

“They are,” Derek said.

“Anyway, I brought you this, Scott,” Stiles said, pulling a small plastic container out of his bag. “It’s chicken.”

Chicken sounded pretty much like the best thing Stiles had ever said, and it didn’t even bother him how obsessive he felt over it. Breakfast had been way too long ago. Scott wiggled over to the window, sticking his face between the steering wheel and the door. “Yes, yes, awesome, you’re the best!”

“Did you take the bones out?” Derek asked. “I read that you have to be careful because cooked chicken bones are soft and cats can break them and choke on them.”

“He’s not actually a cat,” Stiles pointed out.

“Thank you,” Scott said absently, because chicken, oh man, chicken, why was the lid still on it? “He has a book, but I’m not a cat.”

“He’s acting like a cat,” Derek said, looking pointedly down.

His paw was reaching for the chicken, and Scott hastily pulled it back. “I’m hungry,” he said defensively.

“Yeah, it’s fine dude, don’t worry about it,” Stiles said. “It’s okay, even if you are a cat. It won’t last forever.” He pulled the lid off the chicken, pushing Scott’s head back until he could fit the dish on the dashboard in front of him.

He tuned out in favour of focusing on the chicken, which didn’t have any bones in it at all. Awesome.

“Scott, hey Scott,” Stiles said a couple moments later. “I have to go back in, but I’ll be back. We’ll check in with your mom and my dad after school, and then we can come back and make sure this thing is harmless. Okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. See you later.”

Stiles disappeared, and Scott refocused. That chicken wasn’t going to eat itself.

 

 

** xi. still preferable to the ones on the internet **

“Still no change, right?”

Scott peered out the back of the Jeep, pushing up to his hind legs for a better view as they turned out of the school parking lot. “Nothing.”

Stiles waited for him to sit back down before he accelerated hard. The faster they were gone and back, the better he’d feel. “Okay, what the old lady said-”

“Ruth.”

“What _Ruth_ said, it sounded like it should be disappearing by now, right?”

“Right.”

“So, at point do we call her again?” Stiles asked. “I don’t want her to get mad, but I don’t exactly want the school to go up in a horrible magical explosion because we leave it too long, either.”

“If it’s not changed by the time it gets dark tonight, I think it’s something serious.”

“Here’s hoping it’s gone by the time we get back, then,” Stiles said. Isaac’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out, setting it on the seat beside Scott. “Who is it?”

“Uh, your dad.”

“Oh, damn.” Stiles fumbled with the phone, trying to answer it without looking away from the road too long. “Heeey, dad, what’s going on?”

“Why don’t you tell me that, son?”

“Well, see, Scott and I are actually just heading home right now, with the intent to fill you in on the invisible magic that’s hanging out at the school doing nothing, because even though it doesn’t seem like a big deal right now, I’m totally all about respecting the terms of our agreement where I tell fewer lies and you let me leave the house.”

“I’m very glad to hear that, but I’m actually calling because Melissa told me that you have Isaac’s phone and I want to know why.”

“Well, I broke Scott’s, and since we’re staking out the school we needed some way to get in touch with people, so Isaac loaned me his.”

“Isaac _loaned_ you his, or you borrowed it without asking?”

“Loaned it, dad, come on. He recognized that-”

Stiles’ voice died a terrified death in his throat as something lumbered across the road not twenty yards ahead of them. Something human-shaped with enormous, rocky shoulders, that was huge and grey and massive and ugly and also the size of a small building and really, really should not be wandering the streets of Beacon Hills.

He hit the brakes hard, watching silently as it disappeared down another road. It moved with a natural sort of clumsiness, its heavy steps audible even over the Jeep’s engine.

“Scott?” he whispered when it was gone, stealing a glance down at the passenger seat. “Did you see that?”

Scott’s fur was entirely puffed out, his tail enormous and swishing, and when he looked at Stiles his pupils had dilated to nearly fill his eyes. “I saw it.”

His dad’s voice broke back in, and he sounded like he’d been talking for a while. “Stiles, I need you to answer me. What’s going on?”

“Uh, we might have a problem.” Stiles pulled over, killing the Jeep’s engine.

“What sort of problem?” Dad asked. “Car broke down, sort of problem?” He sounded hopeful, and Stiles hated to kill hope.

“More like a giant monster wandering through Beacon Hills kind of problem? Maybe?”

“Maybe or definitely?”

“Definitely?”

“Stiles, we have to follow it,” Scott said.

“I know that, Scott, I was just waiting for my heart attack to be over before I started driving again, is that okay?”

“Not really, because it’s getting further away?”

“Stiles, you do not follow this thing. You call Derek Hale, or any of your other friends, but you and Scott do not go after it. Am I clear?”

“Yeah, dad, you’re totally clear. Scott and I will follow it until Derek gets here to take over, and we’ll keep our distance because I’m a frail human and he’s a tiny kitty. Understood, will do, bye.”

Stiles hung up before his dad could reply, finding Derek on Isaac’s short contact list with one hand and starting the Jeep with the other.

“We have to go after it,” Scott said again.

“Dude, I know, I heard you the first time.”

Stiles had just pulled out when Derek finally answered. “Isaac? What’s wrong?”

“Stiles, sorry. Wait, does Isaac seriously only call you when something’s gone wrong?”

“I just assume, these days. Or are you calling to tell me that everything’s gone exactly as Ruth said it would?”

“Uh, no, actually, so that’s a good point. Kind of sad though, we’ll have a party and invite you sometime.” Stiles turned down the road the monster had taken, shuddering as it came back into view.

“Stiles, if you’re calling because something’s gone wrong, how about you tell-”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, so there’s a giant monster and Scott and I are following it.”

“…No, don’t do that,” Derek said flatly.

“Funny, that’s actually what my dad said.”

“Your dad is _right_ , all you’re going to do is make it mad.”

“Stiles,” Scott said, leaning forward. “That car just drove right past it. No reaction from either of them.”

“There’s no way the driver didn’t see it, though.”

“I can’t understand what Scott’s saying,” Derek said through gritted teeth. “What’s happening?”

“It just passed a car, and the driver didn’t react. Neither did the monster. How is that possible?”

“There are creatures invisible to the mundane world, but they usually stay in wild places and avoid contact with anything human. It must have some sort of a reason to be here.”

“Okay, so we follow it until it reaches its goal?” The monster turned again, and there was only one landmark up that road. There wouldn’t be people there, not after he and Scott had waited for hours after everyone had left, but the issue was more the giant creature even being in Beacon Hills, not how quickly it was going to hit a heavily populated area.

“That’s not what I said.” Derek was talking through his teeth again, but Stiles was barely listening.

“It’s heading towards the school, Stiles.” Scott was getting all puffy again, and it would be cute if Stiles wasn’t wishing he had a similar outlet to stop his hands from twitching.

“Derek, it’s headed to the school. Do you have any idea what it could be? I have to call the mage lady.”

“Big, sort of invisible monster? A troll. Maybe. Don’t get any closer, I’m coming to you and bringing reinforcements.”

“I’m not arguing,” Stiles said. “I’m pulling over right now, and we are going to wait right here, because we don't actually want to die.”

He parked the Jeep just up the road from the school, flipping it into park. Derek had sent out a mass text with Ruth’s phone number, fortunately for him, so it was just a matter of finding the text on the phone.

“Stiles.”

“Yeah, Scott?”

“Don’t freak out, but you need to look out your window.”

“Aw, buddy, why would even bother saying ‘don’t freak-’”

There was another one, smaller and quieter than the first, coming up the road behind them, and Stiles could see several more in his mirrors.

“I hate everything,” he moaned, flipping the phone to camera mode. “Hopefully these bad boys show up on camera, otherwise Derek will have to guess how we died from the smash marks.”

“We’re probably not going to die,” Scott said, reasonably. “They ignored the other car.”

“This car has us in it, Scott, of course it’s going to try to kill us,” Stiles hissed, aiming the viewfinder at where he could see the monster. It didn’t show up on the view, but maybe on the actual picture…

It was blurry, but definitely there.

The one that was suddenly right outside the passenger window was also definitely there, and not at all blurry. Stiles froze, his hand halfway back to the gear shift and their escape.

“ _You see usssssss_.” Its eyes were deep set, tiny twinkling lights in its heavy, rock-like face, and its voice growled out like a landslide as it beckoned to him. “ _Come out_.”

Stiles shook his head, reaching out for Scott and dragging him away from the window.

“ _Come out, or we take you out_.”        

 

 

** xii. lowest point of cathood: no opposable thumbs **

“Are we getting out?” Stiles asked, gripping Scott way too tightly.

“Why? If we’re going to run, I vote driving.” The troll looked like it was slow moving, but that was probably just because of its sheer size. Escape might not be possible at all.

It rumbled at them again, prodding the window. Scott was jarred uncomfortably as Stiles flinched back against the driver’s side door, but the slight impact also shifted Isaac’s phone in Stiles’ lap.

“Look, look, call Ruth!” he said.

“Why, so she can listen to us die- oh my god, _no_ , I’m not coming out, stop saying that!”

The rumbling stopped abruptly, and the troll hit the window again, harder, like it had understood him. The Jeep creaked on its shocks, rocking back and forth.

The rumbling started again, short staccato bursts of sound. Scott pulled himself up to peer over Stiles’ shoulder, and yeah, the trolls were around the other side of the Jeep now too, like they’d been drawn by the first one.

They didn’t have anywhere left to go, no chance, except-

“Wait, Stiles, are they _talking_?” That was what it sounded like, what Stiles was acting like, and maybe cat wasn’t the only language he’d temporarily picked up.

Stiles froze, grimacing. “They’re not speaking English, are they?”

“Nope.”

Stiles threw the driver side door open just as the biggest of the trolls pulled back a limb, telegraphing a hit that Scott knew the Jeep couldn’t take. “Wait, wait, wait!” he shouted. “Here I am, coming out, please don’t smash.”

He tried to drop Scott back to the passenger seat, but Scott dug his claws into his jacket, refusing to be put down. “What are you doing, dude?”

“Uh, leaving the helpless cat inside the vehicle? I was thinking that being crushed by a monster might be something you wanted to avoid, but feel free to correct me if I’m wrong.”

“You’re not leaving me here,” Scott said, digging his claws in until he felt skin. “You’re not leaving me behind.”

“I’m not taking you out there to get killed,” Stiles said, and suddenly it was like the first week after the nogitsune, when everything that had come out of his mouth had sounded like he was fundamentally broken. “Scott, you can’t ask me to do that.”

“I’m not asking.”

“And I’m saying no.” Stiles tugged hard, too hard, Scott couldn’t hold on and then he was on the floor on the passenger side and Stiles was slamming the door behind him before he’d even organized his feet to leap after him.

“Stiles!” Scott lunged for the door, pawing at the handle. “Stiles, let me _out_.”

“Here I am,” Stiles said. Scott snagged the door handle, scrabbling with his claws to get a better grip so he could pull. “What are you going to do?” His voice hardly shook at all, but Scott could hear his heart thudding, a rapid jitter, as he spread his arms wide in surrender.

 _It’s because of you_ , a voice whispered. _You told him to follow_.

And then, _he’s giving himself up to protect you_.

“Don’t,” he said. “Don’t, _please_.”

The trolls were rumbling again, and Stiles was ignoring him, taking tiny steps that edged him further away and keeping his back firmly to Scott.

Scott only had an instant of warning before the big troll, the one that had been ready to smash the Jeep, moved. Stiles’ heartbeat spiked, but he didn’t try to dodge as it reached out and snagged an enormous hand around his middle as easily as he’d been grabbing Scott, swinging him up and onto its shoulder.

Scott threw his weight against the window, bouncing off and to the seat below. The trolls were moving again, and Scott could only watch as Stiles tried to brace himself against the big one’s jolting pace, grabbing at its enormous shoulder only to lose his grip the next moment.

They turned around the bend in the road, and then Scott was alone.

He wanted to roar, but all he had was his stupid little cat voice. He wanted to hit, to strike, to do _something_. Mostly he wanted _out_ , so he could go and chase and stop them from taking Stiles, stop Stiles from being so stupid, but he was still stuck in a tiny, weak cat body, and there wasn’t a way.

He tore around the interior of the Jeep searching for weak spots and finding none, and then sagged down onto the driver’s seat, panting hard. There was a distracting _bzz_ -ing along the floor mat, the sound confusing for a moment before spurring a tiny resurgence of hope. Isaac’s phone was vibrating.

Scott lunged for the phone, flipping it over and dragging his paw across the screen until the buzzing stopped and Allison’s picture disappeared. Ruth had teleported, he’d seen it himself. Even if he was useless, she could help.

“Come on, come on,” he mumbled, poking through the screen. He wasn’t letting this happen, he wasn’t going to sit quietly and hope, he was going to do something.

He blinked hard, the screen blurring, and accidentally hit Lydia’s texts instead of Derek’s. There were two unread, but he ignored them. Derek couldn’t do anything against a monster made from rock, there was nothing Lydia could figure out that would solve it. Mages had started it, and he needed them to end it.

He became aware that he was growling, his claws extended and dragging across the screen of the phone, and pushed it down. He needed control. Stiles had thrown himself away for him. Scott wasn’t going to give him up so easily.

Derek’s texts were brief, to the point, and scarce. There were only three in Isaac’s phone besides the one that was simply an unexplained phone number. Scott tapped it, extending his claws so he could angle his paw down into a touch like a fingertip.

The phone began the call, and the relief at success was like a warm hand stroking down his spine.

The phone rang, once, twice, and cut to voicemail.

“No, _no_ , are you serious?” He slapped the end call button and redialed.

He felt the growl rising inside of his chest, but it was different from before, mixed with frustration and fear and the need to protect and the knowledge that it was only him. Lydia would be there soon, Allison would be there soon, Derek would be there soon, but they wouldn’t be fast enough. Stiles needed help _now_.

The sound that came out of him was more than the cat’s, layered over with a more familiar one that was deeper and had real power behind it. He barely had the presence of mind to twist upwards out of the footwell as it turned into a roar, his body jerking and transforming as the part of him that had been locked away broke free.

When he reached for the door handle, it was a hand that hooked around it, not a paw.

Scott threw himself out, using his momentum to launch into a run.

 

 

** xiii. should’ve sunk some skill points into diplomacy **

The troll wasn’t so bad, really. Stiles’ measure of how much he liked a supernatural creature had never been based on much more than whether or not it wanted to kill him, Scott in his early days notwithstanding, and while kidnapping was far from ideal, at least it didn’t seem like it was going to squash him like a bug.

“So, just out of curiosity, what’s your normal position on humans?”

“ _Avoid_ ,” the troll said, taking a particularly bouncy step. Stiles came down hard on its rocky shoulder, and the air in his lungs made a rapid exodus.

“That’s cool, I figured.” he squeaked out after his diaphragm remembered its job and he was able to suck in a breath. “So, what are you doing here?”

“ _Summoned_.”

“And that’s where we’re going now?” Stiles guessed.

“ _Yes_.”

“Uh, any particular reason I needed to be involved?”

“ _Yes_.”

Stiles gave the troll a moment to elaborate, but it stayed quiet, continuing its rolling slog up the school road. "Do I get to know it?"

“ _You see us. Must be magic, you must have summoned_.”

Of course. “No I didn’t.”

“ _Yes, did_.”

"I’m not a mage. The extent of my magic is the ability to continue to end up in totally awful situations and somehow survive them, I swear I didn’t summon you."

“ _You have magic_.” The troll was stuck on the magic thing, and Stiles let it go. He’d have a chance to argue when they reached the troll’s destination. Stiles could tell that they were on school grounds already, even though he didn’t normally enter them facing backwards and twenty feet in the air.

"What a shocking turn of events, we were headed to the school all along,” he said drily. “No one could have predicted your destination.” The troll was silent, trudging towards its goal. “You know, I’m about ninety percent sure that a pack of werewolves is coming to get me, so probably you should just take my word for it that I’m not a mage and go home."

“ _We were summoned_.” The troll ground to a halt, tipping Stiles off its shoulder and down onto its arm. “ _Off_.”

Stiles scrambled to slide off the side of its hand, dropping the last couple of feet to the ground. “Please don’t squish me,” he said quickly. “I’m totally over the self-sacrificing thing now and I’d really like it if we could find a solution that-” He stopped as he realized he was standing right where Scott had seen the remnants of Lindie’s magic. “Aw, come on.” If he’d needed any more evidence that the trolls were connected to the mages, he had it.

“ _Why have we been summoned_?” the troll asked, and the others were gathering around them in a tight circle, maybe a dozen total. Either way, there was more than enough to take out the entire pack if they decided to.

Stiles really, really hoped that they didn’t decide to.

“So, funny story, but I’m pretty sure that the whole summoning thing was a total accident.”

“ _Accident_?” the troll that had carried him said, the rumblings from the other trolls covered by the sheer power of its voice.

“Yeah, this like, totally new mage leaked magic all over here, and her coven said they cleaned it up, but my cat friend,” the troll frowned, and Stiles elaborated, “the one that was with me before, that one, and I can totally attest to the fact that they are not a very good coven, given the fact that you're here when they said nothing would happen and he's a cat, he’s been seeing magic here all day."

“ _You did not summon_?” the troll said, and it sounded almost…disappointed? Or angry. Angry seemed more likely.

What was definitely angry, though, was the roar that pierced through the wall of trolls surrounding him.

The very familiar roar.

A decidedly not-cat-shaped Scott made his entrance by vaulting over the head of a troll, landing hard on the ground and somersaulting unnecessarily to stand between the biggest troll and Stiles.

“Are you okay?” he snapped out, glancing over his shoulder and scanning down Stiles’ body.

“Totally fine,” Stiles said quickly. “Are you? What happened?”

” _What is_?” the troll said.

“He’s the Alpha,” Stiles said, inching a little closer. Scott the cat had been something to protect. Scott the werewolf would protect him. Assuming there was something that he needed to be protected from, because maybe there was a still a chance the trolls were mostly friendly. “He’s in charge of the werewolves, protects the humans here.”

“Stiles, what’s going on?” Scott said, losing his wolf-face.

Stiles leaned close to whisper in his ear. “Lindie summoned them by accident. That’s what the magic was hanging around for, it’s a summoning spell. I think that this might be okay.”

“They were going to smash the Jeep if you didn’t come out,” Scott growled.

“Yeah, but then they didn’t smash _me_ , and if that doesn’t mean that they could be not totally evil, I don’t know what does.”

The largest troll watched them silently, but Stiles could hear the others, grumbling in voices like a rock slide. The consensus seemed to be to continue to stand quietly, though, because none of them moved.

“So, now that we’ve established that you definitely weren’t intentionally summoned, is there anything we can do to get you to, like, go back home?” Stiles asked, flinching a little in anticipation.

“ _Summoned_.”

“Yes, but don’t you guys have some sort of policy in case of accidental summoning?”

“ _No_.”

The troll’s face drew together in a threatening fashion, but Stiles barely had time to tense in realization before Scott had turned, wrapping his arms around Stiles’ waist and leaping up and over the smallest of the trolls, at which point Stiles not only had time to continue being tense but also yelp in surprise.

Scott let go of him as they hit the ground on the outside of the troll circle, flinging him into a roll that sort of absorbed the impact but mostly meant that more of his skin came in contact with cement as he slid to a stop for the second time in as many days. He’d prefer the roll to crushing his chest against Scott’s shoulder though, so he guessed beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“Come on, up,” Scott urged, tugging Stiles up and off the ground until his feet were underneath him. “They don’t start very quickly, but they’re fast. We’ve got to run.”

The trolls were turning, vague threats echoing off the school, and Stiles was totally okay with running.

 

 

** xiv. this is why rule 1 is cardio **

Scott kept his pace short, an arm’s length behind Stiles as they ran, leaving the school behind them as they raced for the cross-country trail to lead them into the woods.

“Do you have a plan here?” Stiles shouted. “Because I’m pretty sure that we’re getting further away from help if we keep going this way.”

“Did you have a plan when you locked me in the Jeep?” Scott snapped back. “Or were you just planning to force me to watch you die?”

“Hey, hey,” Stiles said, flinching in a satisfyingly wounded way, except he was also slowing down, so Scott grabbed him at hip level and propelled him up to speed again. He could feel the vibrations of the trolls through the ground, and even if they were losing them for the moment, there was no way Stiles could outrun them if it turned into a marathon.

“Don’t slow down, we have to get them off our trail.”

“Well, maybe you should save your alpha werewolf temper tantrum until after we’ve done that, then!” Stiles yelled. “Because when I left you, you were a freaking _cat_ , Scott, and you’re lying if you say you wouldn’t have done exactly the same thing!”

Stiles was slowing down again, but not out of distraction. Scott could hear his breath beginning to wheeze in his chest from the protracted sprint, and he knew they were running out of time.

“Stop,” he said, catching Stiles’ hand. “Wait.”

They slowed down, Scott keeping a firm grip on Stiles, who leaned over, sucking in deep, desperate gasps of air. Scott couldn’t see the trolls, but he could hear them, still coming after them.

“We need to change directions.”

Stiles nodded, his mouth hanging open. There was still a spark of anger in his eyes, and Scott knew that Stiles could see it reflected back at him.

“We’ll hide, and then we’ll go back to the school and figure this out.”

He turned right and tugged Stiles back up into a run, cutting the speed down until they were close to a steady rhythm.

“You’re so _angry_ ,” Stiles panted. “Why are you so angry?”

“Are you serious? You thought they were going to kill you, and you didn’t even try to escape. Why do you _think_ I’m angry?” Stiles couldn’t die, not like that, not ever. The thought of him (shoulders square, facing away, _he did it for you_ ) was enough to turn Scott’s own breath tight.

“You’ve done it to me a dozen times now!” Stiles retorted, tugging his hand free. “If I can protect you, then I _will_ , get it through your thick skull!”

He couldn’t take it anymore. Scott stopped, skidding on the wet leaves, and snagged Stiles around his middle, dragging him down and pinning him flush against the ground. “I lost you,” he said. He was too close, their faces inches apart, but Stiles had to _understand_ , he thought Scott was the one that didn’t get it. “I lost you, and it felt like the world was coming to an end. It’s supposed to be you and me, it’s always been you and me, and you were gone, Stiles, how can you not get this?”

Stiles was warm underneath him, but tense, his hair wild and his chest still heaving against Scott’s. His eyes were the only thing about him that was steady, meeting Scott’s gaze unflinchingly.

“This, this whole thing, that _stupid_ spell, if you’d…” he swallowed, taking Stiles’ hand again and clasping tight. “If they’d killed you because I couldn’t do anything, because you gave up your life rather than risk mine trying to escape, what do you think that would’ve done to me?”

Stiles looked away, just a quick flick of his eyes, but when he looked back, Scott could see a change. His free hand came up to Scott’s shoulder, fingers splayed wide, and then he was dragging Scott down and closer, his arm snaking around his shoulders as he pulled him into a hug, their cheeks rubbing together.

Stiles’ face was sweaty, his heartbeat still pounding from the run, but it didn’t matter, and it was almost on reflex that he turned his face just a little, rubbing into the scent of him a tiny bit more and pushing their lips together. 

There was a moment of stillness, and Scott could _feel_ the instant Stiles decided it was what he wanted, because he squeezed Scott’s hand and opened his mouth, deepening the kiss and pulling him tighter.

It was like nothing Scott had ever imagined, because he didn’t generally imagine makeout sessions on the ground with his best friend, but it wasn’t strange, not with Stiles making soft sounds underneath him like Scott’s tongue was the best thing he’d ever had in his mouth.

Scott lost track of his thoughts when Stiles moved away from his mouth, kissing up his face. “I’m sorry I scared you,” he whispered, his breath tickling Scott’s ear. “I was scared, too.”

“S’okay,” Scott mumbled. “I know why you did it. I just didn’t want you to.”

“I got your voicemail,” A voice announced behind them. Scott was off Stiles and onto his feet before his brain even processed through ‘old lady’ to ‘sneaky old lady who I didn’t hear’ to ‘oh, Ruth’.

“I didn’t leave you a voicemail,” Stiles said, bewildered and still flat on his back. “I didn’t even call you, did I?”

“He did,” Ruth said, pointing her finger right at Scott’s chest. “I really appreciated waking up from my first sleep in an entire day to the sound of you screaming, thank you. Though, I suppose congratulations are in order, since it would have taken an incredible will to break through that spell.”

Scott realized with a jolt that he definitely had let her voicemail message run the second time through to her inbox, and that she had certainly listened to his bones rearranging as he’d shifted back. “Sorry about that, I bet it was pretty gross.”

“Oh, it was,” she agreed. “But for now, if you care to interrupt your necking for just a moment longer, we can go and deal with those trolls.”

 

 

 

** xv. Scott gets to walk out this time **

The trolls wouldn’t have been hard to find, even if Stiles had been alone. The reverberations of their stomping footsteps echoed through the woods, and he was pretty sure they were surrounded again.

Also, Ruth had cast a summoning spell for real, so that probably helped.

Scott hadn’t let go of his hand after he’d pulled him up, and Stiles didn’t particularly care to draw attention to it. He wasn’t sure where desperate, possibly-slightly-teary makeouts fell on the bro scale, if it did at all, but he was pretty sure extended hand-holding rocketed them off the bro scale and into uncharted lands.

Stiles had never really cared to navigate new territory on his own. He adjusted his grip on Scott’s hand, lacing their fingers together.

“So, you see, this entire incident was an accident that I accept full responsibility for, and we are willing to negotiate reparations,” Ruth said.

The biggest troll nodded, and at some point it appeared Stiles had circled back around to thinking he wasn’t so bad. “ _We go home_ ,” it said decisively. “ _Little mage no call again_?”

“I will see to it that my coven treats the ability to summon you with the respect you deserve,” Ruth said. “If there is any abuse of the agreement between yours and mine, I will ensure that the responsible party is punished.”

“ _Good_ ,” the troll said, and then they were stomping away, the ground shaking with every step.

“Why’d they believe you and not us?” Stiles asked.

“The fact that I can use magic and promised them gifts, presumably. I’m fairly certain they believed you before and were just having fun chasing you,” Ruth said. “They’re mischievous creatures, for all their size.” Her tone was serious, but a smirk was sliding onto her face.

“You’ve enjoyed this,” Stiles accused. “We thought we were going to die, and you thought it was funny?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be funny if you had died, obviously, but you’re coming through with minor scrapes and bruises. I’m fairly certain your Alpha did more damage when he had you pinned than the trolls did, and you seemed to enjoy that part. I don’t believe you have anything to complain about.”

Scott rescued him from having to reply, but Stiles could see the colour rising in his cheeks as certainly as he could feel it in his. “Can you take us back to the school?” he asked. “There’s going to be people worried.”

Ruth pulled out her cell phone, presenting it to Scott. “Call them,” she offered. “I saved that nice young man’s number, the one who called me last night? Derek?”

“Do you want to call him?” Scott asked, holding the phone out to Stiles.

“Not even a little,” Stiles said. “You go ahead, call off the hounds.”

Stiles’ not having supernatural hearing meant that he had to press his cheek close to Scott’s so he could hear clearly, but if he would’ve done it before being crushed into the ground and kissed, he wasn’t going to stop afterwards.

“Ruth!” Derek said when he picked up, sounding relieved. “We’ve got-”

“Derek, it’s Scott.”

“Scott?” Derek said after a very short pause. “Aren’t you a cat?”

“I got better,” Scott said, shrugging. Stiles snickered, turning his face into his arm to muffle it.

“Are you hurt?”

“No, we’re both fine, and the trolls are gone. Everything should be okay now.”

“What happened?”

“Lots of things,” Scott said evasively.

“Well, I’ll tell everyone you’re all right,” Derek said, and he was laughing, like there was a joke they weren’t in on. “But if you think you’re getting out of this without explaining everything, I’m pretty sure your mom is going to have something to say about it.”

“My mom knows? Dude!”

“Of course she does, the sheriff called her.” Derek wasn’t even trying to hide his glee, the jerk. “I’ll see you guys when you get back here, I’m sure the story of why you decided to do exactly the opposite of what you were told to do is going to be very compelling.”

His snicker was cut off by the line disconnecting.

“I liked it better when he was sullen,” Stiles said.

“C’mon, he hasn’t threatened anyone’s life in months, this is an improvement,” Scott said optimistically. “And everything’s worked out, right?”

“Sure-” Stiles started to say sarcastically, only then he caught the nervous look in Scott’s eye and realized that he was talking about more than the trolls. “Yeah,” he amended, a smile sneaking onto his face. “Yeah, everything’s good.”

 

 

** xvi. probably don’t want to know where he got the dummy from  **

“That could have gone better,” Stiles said, smiling broadly and fakely as he waved his dad off.

“Could’ve gone worse,” Scott said, hauling himself into the passenger seat of the Jeep. “Ruth could’ve told them exactly what we were doing on the ground when she found us.”

“That is absolutely true,” Stiles said, shuddering. Scott caught himself tracking the line of his arm as he turned his key in the ignition, and hurriedly pulled his gaze back up to Stiles’ face. “And then my dad would’ve had a whole new bundle of reasons on his list of why he thinks I should avoid the woods.”

“Like what?” Scott asked, confused. The sheriff wouldn’t care if Stiles was kissing Scott, he was pretty sure. Well, wouldn’t care was too strong, because he definitely would, but he wouldn’t _mind_. Except for the part where they’d been in the middle of running for their lives at the time. That he probably would mind.

“Like getting my face eaten by an alpha werewolf,” Stiles said, grinning. “There was a moment there when I was worried. I’m too pretty to lose my face like that.”

Scott groaned. “Come on, Stiles, that joke wasn’t funny when you made it about me and Allison, and it’s definitely not funny now.”

“It’s pretty funny now,” Stiles said, checking over his shoulder and pulling a U-turn. “Not my fault you’ve never seen yourself kiss someone. You go hard, dude.”

“ _You_ opened your mouth first,” Scott pointed out.

“I never said it was a bad thing, Scott.” Stiles was staring straight ahead out the windshield. “It wasn’t too weird, was it?”

“It wasn’t weird at all,” Scott said, but when Stiles didn’t look over at him his heart fell a little. “Why, was it weird for you?”

“No!” Stiles said quickly. “No, definitely not _weird_. The cat thing was weird. The kissing wasn’t. I mean, I wasn’t expecting it, for sure, but it was totally okay.” He looked at Scott sidelong, just for an instant, and then back at the road, mumbling, “It was good.”

Scott fought to keep his face straight, but the grin was winning. “How good was it?” he asked. “Do you have any suggestions for improvement?”

“Yeah, actually,” Stiles said, guiding the Jeep around the bend to the last road before his house. “I think you could use a little more practice. You were clearly pretty rusty.”

It took Scott a moment to put the pieces together, but it all clicked when Stiles smiled at him, a real one, tentative and almost unfamiliar on his face. “Oh yeah?” he said. “Are you offering?”

“Oh, for sure,” Stiles said, the smile turning into a shark-like grin as he parked the Jeep. “I’ve got this CPR dummy, well, I’ve got his head, but that’s really all you need for something like that. I’m sure I could find you some kissing pointers online too, really amp up your training to the next level.” He jumped out of the Jeep, turning up the walk to his house.

 “I’m going to walk home if there’s a CPR dummy in your room, Stiles,” Scott threatened, but he got out anyway, jogging up the walk to catch up to Stiles.

“Well, there’s definitely a CPR dummy in my room.” Stiles unlocked the door, holding it open for Scott to enter behind him. “And you’re still coming inside?”

“It’s cold,” Scott defended. “And also, you couldn’t make me kiss a CPR dummy if you tried, so I’m feeling pretty good about my chances.”

“Well, buddy, I’m not sure how else you wanted me to help you practice kissing,” Stiles said innocently, his eyes wide.

“Did you not want to?” Scott asked, because he was having a hard time being sure what Stiles was joking about because he wanted to be funny and what he was joking about to deflect from what he was actually thinking, and he’d always found the best way to stop that was a direct question. “Because if you don’t want to, we don’t have to, I promise. We need to talk about things, anyway.”

“I don’t really want to talk about things,” Stiles said, his grin disappearing. “Is kissing still on the table? Let’s do that instead.”

Scott didn’t have a chance to answer before Stiles had surged into him, throwing an arm over his shoulder and kissing him firmly, and Scott didn’t really need to talk right that second anyway. He let Stiles back him into the wall, catching him around the waist and inviting him closer with a tug.

It shouldn’t be so easy to fundamentally alter the way he thought about someone, and even yesterday Scott would’ve been surprised at the suggestion that he’d be really, really into kissing his best friend, but it felt natural and easy in a way he never would’ve expected when Stiles moved against him.

The more he thought about it though, the more Scott realized that maybe it wasn’t such a fundamental shift in thinking, not when Stiles had been his entire world for months as they recovered after the nogitsune, and one of the biggest parts of his life for the years before that. Maybe it was just the next step.

“Is this okay?” Stiles broke contact and leaned away, the muscles of his back tensing under Scott’s hand. “You look like it’s not.”

“No I don’t,” Scott said, dragging his hand down Stiles’ spine. “I look pensive, thoughtful.”

“Still using that word-a-day calendar, are we?” Stiles leaned away, arching against Scott’s hand and also out of kissing range. “Is it okay?” he repeated.

“Yeah, yeah, of course it’s okay.” It was more than okay, and that was the part that was sort of…not okay.

“Then why are you making that face?”

Scott sighed. “It just, it just feels kind of strange that this doesn’t feel strange,” he confessed. Stiles’ eyes crinkled with confusion, and then relaxed into a grin without saying anything. “What? You don’t find it kind of odd that this feels completely normal?”

“No, of course I don’t,” Stiles said, leaning back in like he was sharing a secret. “You’re Scott.”

“Yeah, you got me, I’m Scott,” he agreed tentatively. “I don’t see how that-”

“No, dude, you’re _Scott_. You’re the guy who saves the day, the guy who everyone relies on, even the adults sometimes, and you keep going even when it all seems over. You said it earlier. I was _gone_. There wasn’t going to be anything left of me, but you changed that. Not just you, but you kept them all going. Kept me going.”

Scott realized his mouth had dropped a little slack in shock, and clamped his lips together. The days between the nogitsune’s final death and when Stiles had come back was a topic Stiles had avoided. He hadn’t wanted to talk about it, and Scott had forced himself quiet about it with the same intensity that had kept him beside Stiles for those days, holding his hand gently when he’d _needed_ to run in the woods and howl out his pain.

“You get it, right? You believed in me, you brought me back. Nothing that happens between us could ever be strange to me.”

Scott was acutely aware of how Stiles felt against him, warm and alive and almost perfectly still as he looked straight into his eyes, waiting for Scott to say something. His mouth was dry and he could barely swallow, a lump sitting heavy in his throat, but that didn’t matter because he couldn’t find the words anyway.

He knew he’d been silent too long when Stiles pulled back again, just a little, like he thought Scott was about to reject him, and that was catalyst enough for him to say, “We’re totally in love, aren’t we?”

It came out more as a statement than a question, but Stiles smiled anyway. “Yeah. Yeah, pretty sure. Kind of crazy, isn’t it?”

“That’s not the word I’d use,” Scott said, knowing that he had a smile as bright as Stiles did. “More like, kind of awesome.”

He ran his hand up Stiles’ side and around the back of his neck, using the other to keep him close, but moving slowly in case Stiles wanted the chance to pull back. Stiles didn’t use it, though, his hands clutching at Scott’s sides and his posture relaxed.

Scott held onto him for a moment, feeling the pulse in Stiles’ neck at his fingertips and the way Stiles’ own fingers had buried themselves into his shirt, holding tight enough that the fabric stretched across his abdomen.

When he finally leaned in, watching as Stiles’ eyelids flitted down in anticipation, it was like he’d put the final piece of the puzzle together.

The kiss was different from the others, lacking the raw instinct and panic from the woods and with the last of the barriers between them kicked down. It was deliberate, impossible to misinterpret, and it was perfect.

So, of course, it was also cut very short when the front door opened and the Sheriff stepped in.

Scott froze, every reaction failing him, and he couldn’t avoid meeting the Sheriff’s eye over Stiles’ shoulder. He was a step up from Chris Argent in terms of “stay away from my baby or you die” threats that had invariably been sincere, but Scott was still standing in his front hallway with one hand wrapped around his son’s neck and holding him tightly around his waist with the other, and Scott didn’t think he’d ever seen a look more surprised than the one on his face.

 He realized abruptly that his hold on Stiles’ neck was keeping him from turning to see who Scott was looking at when there was suddenly two unimpressed Stilinskis looking at him, and he let go, his breath rushing out of him in an instant when Stiles pulled away and turned around, only to tense when he saw his dad.

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence, and then the Sheriff said, “Please tell me you two weren’t doing that when he was a cat.”

“Dad!” Stiles croaked out, sounding horrified, but Scott could see the twinkle of amusement in the Sheriff’s eye, and that let him relax a little. Just a little.

“I think it’s a valid concern,” the Sheriff said, losing all traces of seriousness as a grin spread across his face. “Cat sleeps in my kid’s bed and then turns into a human. Are we looking at a Frog Prince sort of thing here?”

“No, dad, oh my god,” Stiles said, outraged.

“Well, I just came by to make sure you were doing okay,” he said with a laugh. “Sorry to interrupt, I hope Melissa knows because I’m going to need someone to laugh with me about this, and oh, right: Stiles, you are absolutely grounded for that stunt you two pulled earlier. Scott doesn’t have to go now, but he’s not spending the night.”

“ _Dad_.”

“ _Stiles_. You two could’ve died. It was unnecessary.”

“It might’ve been necessary if the trolls were meaner!”

“You’d be dead if they were, kid.” He looked old and drawn suddenly. “We can talk about that, and anything else you might need to tell me about later. I’ve got to go. Scott, you can stop freaking out back there, I’m not going to call your mom until you’ve had a chance to tell her.”

“Thanks,” Scott said, relieved.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, waving a hand. “Just try to avoid trolls for the next while, okay?”

“Can do,” Stiles said, saluting the door as the Sheriff closed it behind him. “My dad, master of blitz parenting,” he said wryly, turning back to Scott. “I’ll be able to talk him out of grounding me.”

“Sure,” Scott agreed, because Stiles was going to give up as soon as his dad started on the guilt trip, but it wasn’t worth the argument if he told him that. “Can we go up to your room? I’ve got a feeling like he’s going to come back just to laugh at us.”

“He _would_ ,” Stiles said, indignation quickly fading to amusement. “But then, so would I, if I was him. Let’s go.”

He reached for Scott’s hand, palm up and fingers spread. Scott took it, and seized the opportunity to lace their fingers together and leap past Stiles, dragging him to the stairs. Stiles squawked, but more out of surprise than protest, following him willingly.

Scott wrinkled his nose at the mostly eaten sandwich that was still sitting on Stiles’ bedside table, but flopped onto Stiles’ bed anyway, pulling Stiles after him so they were half sitting beside each other and half laying atop one another.

Neither one of them made a move, just leaning against each other comfortably. Stiles tipped his head into Scott’s shoulder, closing his eyes with a sigh.

“What you said…” Scott started, trailing off as he searched for a way to put his thoughts into words.

“Mmm?”

“You said it like I’d only ever been there for you, not the other way around.”

“You’re a werewolf, Scott,” Stiles said, sitting up and scooting towards the wall so he was more firmly on the bed. “I try to help you, and I definitely do sometimes, but you’re pretty much the reason Beacon Hills is still here.”

“Maybe, but I wouldn’t have made it very far without you, dude.”

“No, I know that. I’m pretty awesome,” Stiles said, flopping back onto his pillow. “Saviour of Alpha werewolves, survivor of the almost all the things Beacon Hills has managed to attract from the depths of Horribletown, if you don’t stop me I’m going to keep coming up with new titles-”

Scott rolled over with a friendly growl, tipping back onto Stiles and leaning in towards his face. “I was being serious,” he complained.

“I know, and I couldn’t take it,” Stiles said, looking unrepentant. “Maybe you can show me how much I mean to you instead, that part was pretty fun.”

“Alright, I will,” Scott retorted. Stiles grinned, but his grin vanished when Scott flipped him onto his side and lay down behind him, pinning him down with one arm.

“This is not what I was expecting,” Stiles announced to the wall. Scott touched his nose to the back of his neck, wriggling the other arm underneath Stiles’ torso so he could lie comfortably.

“You mean so much to me that I’m going to cuddle you until you let me tell you all my feelings,” Scott said, ruining his threatening tone by snuggling as close as he could against Stiles.

“I hope you’re prepared to do this for a while then,” Stiles said warningly.

“That’s not really going to be an issue,” Scott said. “I’m staying right here until you accept my love.” It was warm and comfortable and everything around him smelled like Stiles, he was pretty okay with not moving ever again.

“I’m not really clear what happened downstairs if that wasn’t me accepting your love. Are you waiting for me to ask if I can take you out after I’m done being grounded? That should happen sometime around May, mark it in your calendar.”

“I’m going to take a nap,” Scott decided. “Wake me up when you’ve decided to surrender.” He pressed his face into Stiles neck, closing his eyes.

“I don’t understand the rules of this game,” Stiles said, wriggling a little.

“It’s cuddling, there are no rules,” Scott said. “But you can have your arms back.” He loosened his grip, letting Stiles readjust until he was settled down against Scott.

“Are you actually serious about me ‘accepting your love’, dude?” Stiles asked after a long moment of silence. Scott had been halfway to sleep already, and it took him a moment to process it. “Because I do.”

“I know,” Scott said, rubbing his hand along Stiles’ arm. “It’s been kind of a rough day, though, and I’m tired. Do you want up?”

“Not even a little.”

“What’s your dad going to say if he comes home and we’re asleep?”

“He’ll probably take pictures and send them to your mom, so probably you should harness that supernatural hearing and wake up when he gets home.”

“I can do that,” Scott agreed.

“Good.” Stiles was quiet for a long moment, and Scott would think he was falling asleep if he couldn’t feel the way he was still fidgeting. “Hey though, one thing.”

“What is it?”

“Could you maybe try purring again? You were a super cute cat, I miss you already.”

Scott thought for a moment about the proper response, and then rolled over, taking Stiles with him as he burst into laughter. “You’re awful,” he accused when Stiles kept giggling.

“I’m awesome,” Stiles said, wriggling so he was lying on his back and Scott could see his grin. “I bet the look on your face was priceless.”

“Hey, I seem to remember you telling Allison that we were never going to speak of this again,” Scott tried.

“Yeah, and then I realized what a wasted opportunity that would be, and I’m going to be bringing it up forever.”

“Forever, huh?” Scott said, raising an eyebrow. “I guess I’m going to have to find a way to convince you otherwise.”

“Go ahead and try, Scotty,” Stiles said, tipping his chin up so their eyes were level and leaning in close. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

 


End file.
